


Unscripted

by H3llcat



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Love Confessions, M/M, Praise Kink, Pre-TFA, Sexual Roleplay, Spanking, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 21:45:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13796967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H3llcat/pseuds/H3llcat
Summary: “The elusive Kylo Ren has been caught at last.”





	Unscripted

“The elusive Kylo Ren has been caught at last.”

Ren lifts his head when he hears the swoosh of the door closing and watches polished boots take slow, calculated steps towards him. Brown. Where the fuck had Hux found brown boots? He tugs against the durasteel binders securing his wrists to the wall. It’s all for show, he could snap them clean in two with very little thought at all. “The First Order will be here any minute now,” he manages to put a rasp in his voice as if there had actually been some sort of struggle while detaining him.

“Ah, good. That’s plenty of time to get the information I need out of you.” The words are clipped like Hux is reciting them from a rehearsed script. Perhaps he is. He _had_ gone to the trouble of finding brown boots, after all, on a ship that wholly embraced a monochrome aesthetic. Ren smirks at the thought. It would be just like Hux to over prepare for sex as he did most other aspects of his life. The idea is strangely endearing.

“I won’t tell you anything, Lieutenant Fux.” Ren plays his part.

Hux steps closer to Ren’s naked, kneeling form until he fills his view. “I think you’ll find I’m rather persuasive, Lord Ren. Tell me about the Starkiller project.” He reaches for the buckle of his belt, fingering the polished metal like a promise.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ren insists, cock twitching with interest as he watches Hux’s lean muscles flex beneath the tight, tan pants he’s wearing for his role. It’s nearly a convincing imitation of a real Resistance uniform, though Hux could never hope to channel their sort of… _rustic charm._

Hux slides his belt free with a satisfying hiss of leather against cloth, then folds it in half and tugs it quick between his hands to make it snap. “I’m not playing games with you, Lord Ren.” Ren groans at the title, straining again at the binders, nearly forgetting they weren’t truly holding him submissive. “We have planted a spy within the First Order. We’re aware of Starkiller. Tell me what _you_ know or I promise you’ll soon regret it.” He had _definitely_ written a script for this.

“It’s a failure,” Ren answers, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he tracks Hux’s movement, the “rebel Lieutenant” slowly circling behind him. “Nothing came of it. It was a dead end. The plans were bad.”

A booted foot lands in the center of his back, pushing him face first against the cool flooring. Apparently he had not taken kindly to the pretend insult. “We’ve heard the opposite-- that it’s the most advanced piece of military equipment ever engineered. That it’s a modern marvel, unlikely to ever see its equal. Who’s behind it?”

 _Ah_ . So Hux is looking for praise. Ren presses his forehead to the ground to hide his smirk even as the boot on his back pushes down harder. “Some young, inexperienced officer,” he goads. “No one worth noting.” The sharp swish of the belt cutting through the air is Ren’s only warning before _pain_. The doubled leather connects solidly with the meat of his arse, licking a red stripe across the skin, radiating fire out from the lash.

“I don’t appreciate being lied to, Lord Ren.” Another. Another. Another. He loses count at sixteen.

“Starkiller is the work of an absolute madman,” Ren’s voice is half a plea, for mercy or for more, even he isn’t sure. He turns his head to peer up at Hux through watery eyes, pleased at least to see the conflicting reactions flickering across his stern features. “Genius doesn’t begin to describe his mind. He can steal stars and silence billions-- wiped out from halfway across the galaxy before they even realize what’s happening. He’s brilliant and you don’t deserve the honor of knowing his name.”

Hux’s lips part, no doubt wanting to snap at Ren for his poeticism, but his breaths come more labored and it’s clear that he’s hard, straining against his mockery of Resistance breeches. He kneels down, gloved fingertips tracing Ren’s cheek, dipping under to gently grip his chin. “He sounds like a dangerous man,” he whispers, breath hot in the space between them. “I’ll make it my mission to take him down personally.”

“You could never.” Ren tilts his face to bump his nose against the corner of Hux’s lips.

“Is that so? And what makes you so sure?”

“I wouldn’t let you.” He watches Hux falter, arrogant mask slipping as his lips form an O around words that won’t come and brows lift towards his hairline, as if Ren had just made a profound confession. Perhaps he had. Maybe a vow to never let harm befall the other is as close as they’ll get to impassioned declarations of love. In some ways it seems more profound. Apparently Hux feels the same, rendered speechless for once, a feat in and of itself, but Ren doesn’t even have the good sense to be smug about it. Instead he pulls his restraints taut as he surges forward to close the gap between them once more, the resulting kiss hurried and too wet, teeth clacking together, but exactly what he needs.

He growls when Hux rolls to his feet, suddenly too far away, wanting-- _needing--_ contact, then feeling more than a little silly at the immense relief that settles over him when he sees Hux had merely stood to shimmy out of his tight breeches. He’s back in his lap as quickly as he left, gloved fingers pressing to the base of Ren’s skull to ease him in for another kiss.

Hux lifts his hips and slowly sinks down on Ren’s hard cock, already open and wet, having prepared himself earlier while he left Ren to wait, chained up in his quarters. He doesn’t fully seat himself, though he could if he wanted to, instead only taking half of the length. Perhaps it’s another way to show who is in control, still grasping at the fraying edges of their makebelieve. But Ren is more than happy to take anything that is given to him, encouraging Hux with a throaty groan.

Hux rolls his hips, and Ren bucks his up to meet him despite himself. “What else do you know about Starkiller?” Hux presses their forehead together as they find their rhythm, desperate pants intermingling.

“That it’s going to be a huge success,” Ren answers without hesitation, cracking the binders open so he can bring his hands to grip bruises into Hux’s hips. “The Resistance doesn’t stand a chance, _Lieutenant_. It’s creator will see to that, and with him by my side we’ll soon rule the whole galaxy.” The words are inelegant, he’s unused to having a need for grand promises and speeches, but Hux moans nonetheless and his head droops so he can mouth lazily at Ren’s throat.

Ren flips them over, bracing a hand against the wall, the other still wrapped firmly about Hux’s hips, and pushes all the way into him, impatience spurred on by the little noises his Starkiller is making. He thrusts once, twice, and it has him spilling into Hux’s tight warmth. Being filled so thoroughly has Hux coming moments later, dirtying their stomachs between them and falling limp, breathless in Ren’s arms.

Hux disentangles himself once he’s caught his breath and gets to his feet with a satisfied stretch. “You mean the First Order will rule the whole galaxy,” he corrects as he moves into the refresher to fetch a damp towel.

It takes Ren a moment in his post-orgasm haze to understand what he’s talking about, heat finally lighting up his cheeks like a lightbulb of realization. “That’s what I meant.” It wasn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to nintaur for naming this thing, you're a doll <3 You can find me on [twitter @h311cat](https://twitter.com/h311cat) or on [tumblr](https://h3llcat.tumblr.com/).


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